In My Thoughts (Cresswell)
by human-tomato
Summary: No one else could see her, the girl who was supposed to be dead. No one, apparently, besides Thorne. Carswell's parents, Thorne and a special plus one arrive in Rhode Island to start a new adventure full of death, love, (in?)sanity, and an online friendship.
1. Chapter 1

The funeral had been two months ago.

Carswell Thorne knew that from his journal. His notes, the ones his parents made him keep so that he didn't forget things. Or as a reference to things he was supposed to know, but didn't. This was one of those things.

In his mind, it seemed, the funeral was real. It had happened and Cinder was dead. But his heart, his soul, if such a thing was real, couldn't seem to comprehend that his best friend, his first sweetheart, was gone from this world and everything forever. So it was a conflicting thing when he would look up to see her in front of him, or to hear her voice in his head, or to feel her arms around him when he was at his worst.

His mother thought he was crazy. And, sometimes, he thought so too. Wouldn't that automatically mean he couldn't be? After all, crazy doesn't recognize self. Besides, he could function. He could socialize. He had friends, a life. But when he had these "visions" and "episodes", as his therapist called them, it was impossible to separate the so-called imagined from reality. In that moment, Cinder was real, more alive than she had been even before. Her skin was tanned, as it was in the summer, cheeks sunburned to the shade of a sunrise; her brown hair was thin and wiry but soft, still wet like she had just climbed from the river.

The river.

Carswell hadn't gone back there since that day, and he didn't know if he ever would. The memory was to fresh in his mind; god knows that it replayed every night, before and behind his eyes for hours upon hours upon hours until the pills kicked in and he could finally sleep.

Sleep was something he thought about often these days. How easy it would be for him to just close his eyes and let go. There were pros, of course: getting out of and away from the stares, the sympathetic though far from well meaning whispers, the sighs of people who had stopped caring long ago. Cinder. Most and least of all, Cinder. But then the cons. The terrors, visions he never wanted to see. A hand slip. Over the trees. Finally, watching that hand fall back again. Sometimes, and he knew it best of all, it didn't even work. That guarantee of sweet release was only a warranty, not always temporary. And the price was just too much.

All said and done, the funeral had been two months ago. Two months ago, and one week after that was the first time Carswell had seen her. Cinder.

" _What'ya doin'?"_

" _Nothing, just reading this story for English. Kinney is bringing me my work."_

The greeting had been so familiar that he hadn't even flinched. Hadn't even stopped to think that the person who came along with it shouldn't come with anything anymore.

" _So you're still in here, then. I was wondering. I've been out of here for almost a month. Actually, I wasn't even here in the first place. Free, but...dead, I guess. That's what everyone's been telling you, huh? Ha, I guess so, by the look on your face. The question is, who got lucky in this situation?"_

This had to be a dream. Why did he have to have the digestive system of a sloth? Why had he asked for the extra painkillers? They were taking effect now, surely. The only explanation for this was drugs. He pressed the NURSE button next to him while Cinder was taking in the room. Maybe they could help him get this out of his system.

" _Lucky? Did anyone get 'lucky' from this? My parents are paying bills that cost more money than they have, the whole school is closed because no one could pay attention, and the moment I woke up your brother came in to scream at me about why. Why I had survived, not you. Why I, the one who had been driving and oh-so-obviously caused the whole thing, got to live. Can you tell me, Cinder? Can you answer me why?"_

The nurse had entered, then, lips puckered with the unasked though already known question of what was wrong. Cinder was gone, sometime between when he turned his head at the nurse's movements and when he looked back to where she had been. And the question was never answered.

 **.**

 **so, there you guys go! i hope you like it, and if there are any errors feel free to tell me. I just found and replaced for the names in this from the original, so i hope I got that at right at least XD feedback is much appreciated. hope you all had a wonderful day-**

 **kaylynn**


	2. Chapter 2

Carswell thought it was strange how there was a new car smell but no designated smell for a new house. It was almost as though no one suspected it to have one.

His did. It smelled like bleach, chemicals from a recent cleaning, but the bitter lemon barely covered up the other scents. Forest and cigarettes and salt and a flowery, motherly perfume. Diapers and baby powder and wet fur, like from a pet of some sort. Most of all it smelled like a home. That was something Carswell's old house never smelled like, a home. He was sure it had at one point. But as he grew his parents got new jobs, jobs that kept them away night after night. Not wanting to be alone in the already too-big house, he found himself lingering at friend's homes and staying down by the lake with Cinder.

" _It smells weird in here."_

"Think of the devil," Carswell muttered to himself. He threw on his bag and jogged up the stairs. His parents had already promised him the attic bedroom; that was the one thing he wanted. The one condition he had for letting them rip him away from his old friends, old house, old neighborhood, old life.

Rhode Island was a small state, to be sure, only an hour across at most by car. But this was completely different from the small, rural town he was used to. His high school would be in Providence. Carswell's usual class of twenty would turn into one of over two hundred. Just in his _grade_.

" _Aw, you were thinking of me?"_ Cinder teased, quickly overtaking him on the stairs and turning around to face him as she ran. " _I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I am pretty unforgettable, aren't I?"_

He made an uncommitted sound in his throat. The stairs seemed to last for an infinity before him, though in reality it only took them a few minutes to climb up.

The attic room, as he had been forewarned, was the smallest in the house. The unregistered fourth story. From between slits in the blinds was where the late afternoon light came through, the only thing illuminating the room. Dust hung in the air almost hesitantly, though it wasn't as much as he had expected because of the maid's recent visit.

An empty mattress rested against the wall in the corner. Downstairs, he could hear his mother ordering about the movers. Carswell knew they would be hard-pressed to bring up his bed frame; maybe he'd just sell it.

He pulled the mattress down. It hit the floor with a loud _thump_ , making his dad yell out his surprise below.

" _Anger issues much?"_ Said Cinder, sarcastically. She leaned against the wall where the mattress had been.

"What? No, it just fell like that." Carswell defended himself halfheartedly. He looked around the bare room, comparing it to his old one. There, dark blue walls freshly painted. Smelled of sweat and Cinder's perfume. Here, black walls that were fading to gray and the smell of roses from the overgrown garden below. He hated roses.

It was all too much, and much too empty. Carswell ran from the room, leaving Cinder behind as he clomped down the stairs.

His father was gone, presumably getting pizza for the night's dinner. His mother was "helping" the movers by showing where to put each box.

Carswell kissed her cheek. "I'm going out," he told her. Then, to the movers, "Just leave my boxes at the bottom of the stairs, if you want. And you don't have to bother with a bed frame. It's a long walk. So...Thanks."

His mom was the slightest bit peeved, "You don't have to thank them, it's their job."

"That's exactly why I should thank them." He grabbed an apple from the stash in the car that he had slowly been depleting on the drive down and dodged the men and women carrying boxes. Just to annoy her, he made sure to say thank you to them all.

Carswell's housing complex was much nicer than his older neighborhood, that he had to admit. Where he used to live seemed-and was-the kind of place where kids would run and play in the morning and teens would do drugs and graffiti during the night. Here, with rows of somehow passive aggressive gardens separating each yard, it was almost the place where no one did anything at all. As though it just...was.

Only two or three miles out of this neighborhood, the neatly rowed houses were replaced with concrete, abandoned buildings, each with "out of business" signs somewhere near. Entire malls and outlet stores, gone. Closed.

Everything here was dead.

A few cars drove past, their whirs mingling with the buzz of electrical wires. It seemed like an apocalyptic setting. How hard it was to imagine that, somewhere, Kate and Danny were playing videogames in the old tree fort, probably having already forgotten about their crazy, ex-best friend.

No. Crazy was too nice a word. Something one could say affectionately, with an added punch to the shoulder or ruffle of hair. Insane, deranged, demented, those. Those were true.

Mental. Unhinged. Non compos mentis.

He threw his apple at a garbage bin, already filled with trash bags. It bounced off the side almost snottily. _Really, dude?_ It seemed to say, _That's the best you've got?_

Insane was a good word for it.

Angrily, Carswell stormed over to the bottle and dumped it in the can. He still had the feeling that it had won the whole encounter.

Next to the dumpster he was surprised to find an open door, leading into the old store. He looked behind him to make sure no one else was watching, of course no one was, and stepped to go inside.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The voice came from a small blond haired girl sitting on the slanted roof above him. The girl grinned and jumped off, not so much as flinching when her feet pounded the ground. "The structure isn't stable enough to go inside."

Carswell folded his arms stubbornly. "But it's stable enough to sit on?"

The girl shrugged, "For me it is. I'm light."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Carswell wasn't a heavy-set person. In fact, with his eating schedule so messed up from spending time in the hospital and stress, he was skinnier than ever. Paler, too-usually his skin was tan because of all the time he spent outside, but now it was an almost translucent white. In fact, everything about Carswell seemed faded now. His brown hair, shaggy and greatly in need of a trim. His blue eyes. Dull, dull, lifeless. He pulled on his sleeve self-consciously.

When the other didn't answer, Carswell smushed a dead cigarette in front of him with the toe of his shoe. "Can you tell me your name, at least?"

"You don't know me?"

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you some sort of celebrity around here or something?

"No...it's just...it doesn't matter, really."

"Of course it matters. Why wouldn't it matter?"

"Because I'll be gone soon anyways."


	3. Chapter 3

_Glass was breaking._

 _That was the one thing he could be conscious of, really. That glass was breaking and shattering and splintering to let in the light-and the water._

" _Cinder!" He yelled, or tried to, at least. He moved him mouth and strained his throat, but no sound came out. "Cinder...please…"_

 _The pain was too much. He gave up._

She hovered over him, hair wispy white from the moon. " _So, you're awake. It took you a whole fifteen minutes longer than usual to get here."_

"It's not like I left." Carswell stood, pulling off his shirt. Parts of it were damp with sweat.

" _You were asleep."_

"Yeah, here. In this bed."

" _Was that where your dream was? 'Here, in this bed'?"_

Carswell bit his lip, knowing Cinder was too stubborn to argue with. When she had an opinion, she would argue in circles until you forgot what your fight was even about. It wasn't like they got into many arguments when they were together, anyways. That's the thing about dating your best friend since kindergarten-you've already fought about everything there is to fight about.

He got down on his knees to search through a box for a calendar to mark the date, then remembered that he had no therapist now. Instead, he'd be talking to strangers on an internet support group.

A pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders. Not warm, not cold, just a light pressure. Almost a memory of the feeling. " _What're you thinking about?"_ Cinder asked quietly. He couldn't see her, now, but knew from her touch that she was there.

"You. Me. Us. Remember when we got together?"

" _You were terrified."_

"I was not," he argued lightly, a small smile on his face. "Intimidated, maybe, but not scared. You just looked so beautiful that day."

" _I was wearing sweatpants. No makeup, even."_

"Well, you were."

And she had. Cinder had been sitting with her friends, that day. Winter and...Peony, he remembered. Or was it Pearl?

Either way, the presence of other people calmed him down if only a little. Sure, it meant more mouths to spread gossip of how badly he had failed, but it would make it at least a little less awkward to talk to her. One-on-one conversations with Cinder hadn't really been his thing since he realized his feelings for her.

He remembered walking up to her table and taking a deep breath. After that, there was only white and feelings. Nervous. Remorse. Then...Happy. So, so incredibly happy.

They both sat in silence. It wasn't an awkward sort of quiet; just lonely. Remorseful.

Carswell fell asleep at his desk that night, with the last conscious feeling he had being Cinder draping a blanket over his shoulders.


	4. Chapter 4

The blanket was gone. Or, rather, never there. That's what Carswell tried to tell himself when he woke up fifteen minutes before his alarm, half froze to death.

He took a quick shower and threw on a tee shirt and jeans. It was his first day of school, and even at a new place he had the same philosophy: dress how they should expect you to. There's no need to set expectations.

Cinder, of course, was not impressed. " _That's what you're wearing? Really? At least wear a nice shirt. Or jeans that aren't faded-your mom got you a new pair only a few weeks ago. Are you really just going to let that go to waste?_

"Yes, yes, no, no and no. I'm just not wearing them right now."

" _Right now or ever?"_

He ignored her, running his fingers through his hair. Carswell knew that there was nothing Cinder hated more than when he pretended she wasn't there. Not that pretending wasn't probably just accepting reality, but now wasn't the time to discuss the technicals of his insanity.

Carswell heard Cinder huff, and then the room filled with empty silence.

Before he met Cinder, he had never known how silence could do that. Fill a space. It was more of a thing that was there when nothing else was. But now he knew it to be like air: it could crush around you, pushing at you at all sides; silence refused to be ignored.

"Alright, I'm sorry." He turned around with a strained smile, but it was too late. She was already gone.

Swearing under his breath, Carswell ran down the stairs, hopping from foot to foot to try and pull on his socks.  
His mom wasn't just leaving when he entered the kitchen. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, making sure he knew of the fifteen dollars for pizza on the fridge, and ran out to the driveway. His dad's car was already gone.

Carswell was used to this. His parents had always rushed around like angry bees, even before they both got promotions at their jobs. They were scientists of sorts; he never bothered to figure it out. He didn't care enough to.

Not to say that _they_ didn't care about _each other_. Maybe it wasn't the unconditional blood-comes-first love, but the three of them were each able to recognize the benefits of having other people around. Carswell could cook the dinner and provide a certain leverage in the social department, his dad payed the bills and his mother bought the food.

A shared love of survival was basically the extent of their bond.

Carswell grabbed a Poptart from the cabinet, glancing at the clock on the wall. He had no idea what time his new school started, though he suspected it was eight, same as his old one. Which meant that the bus would be arriving at his stop, a block way, in only five minutes.

He swore, grabbing his stuff and sprinting out of the house. As his feet pounded the pavement outside, he could've sworn he heard Cinder's laugh only a few yards behind.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you so much to Andromeda Writes for helping me to fix this one ^^**

The bus was a dragon.

The bus was a dragon, and this particular beast appeared to be asleep. Exhaust trailed from pipes like smoke out of nostrils; the only sound it made as it leaned from right to left were creakes. Snores. Once Carswell had the image in his mind, it was hard to push away.  
It was empty but for the driver, who ignored Carswell when he stepped on. There wasn't any indication of assigned seats (and, in a big school, he was sure there wouldn't be) so Carswell sat down in the middlemost one, the first he could find without trash littering the ground or leather.

The seat was green and lined like a palm. A stretch of duck tape barely covered a gash in the middle. Yellow fuzz, candy wrappers, and mold all lined the inside.

The bus bumbled along for a few blocks and pulled up in front of an (surprise, surprise) abandoned pizza place. A few people walked on, laughing and pushing each other as the sank into their seats.

One of them, a tall Asian boy, stood over Carswell. "Can I sit here?" He asked, motioning toward the seat.

Carswell nodded and pulled his bag onto his lap. The boy smiled easily and joined him on the seat. It was so small that their elbows touched whenever either of them shifted. When the bus started moving again, the boy leaned against him and held onto the top of the seat to keep from falling in the aisle.

Carswell stayed as still as he could.

The boy talked animatedly to a pretty African girl in the seat next to him for a few minutes, occasionally having to move his legs so that people could walk through the aisle. He turned to Carswell after a moment, holding out a hand for him to shake. "I'm Kai , by the way," he nodded his head at the girl across from them, "and this is Winter. Are you new?"

He nodded.

"Cool. What's your name, stranger?"

"Carswell Thorne."

The boy, Kai, chuckled. "Not into long answers? That's fine. Well, Carswell Thorne, if you want to sit with us at lunch then you can. Second table away from the window; furthest from the trash. The cans tend to get smelly on fishstick days. Do you have your schedule?"

Carswell did. He pulled it out and the three of them compared classes. Kai had AP Math with Carswell and he and Winter shared a free period, but that was it. At least he wouldn't be alone in all his classes.

The bus pulled up to a red brick school building. It was far bigger than his old one-two stories, three soccer fields, two different buildings for arts and regular classes-but a great deal less intimidating than he had thought it would be.

The school had a stone walkway lined with browning trees and dark green grass. A large overhang was filled with friends hugging and laughing, glad to be back from the summer if only for the people. Next to this mosh pit of sorts was an electronic sign lighting up with back to school messages such as, "Go tigers!" and "Make this a purrfect year!"

Carswell's old school had been monumentally different. For starters, the only place to go if there was rain was under the scar tree (named so for a single lightning scar down the middle), and everyone knew that was where the stoners gathered. The one soccer field they had was poorly maintained and constantly letting balls into either the mess of burrs and thorne plants, the rejects of nature, and the goals were barely standing. No one was ever happy to be back, point proven by the number of times someone had changed the (non-electric) sign to say "suc me" rather than "welcome back students". The letters were always bought and sold as twisted trophies.

Carswell forced his way through the crowd. The hallways were just as full. Already people were opening and closing (slamming, more like) their lockers. A few were even sitting in classrooms.

He had to meet with a counselor before anything. Not because he was knew, well, not completely, but because that was one of the reasons why his parents had chosen the school in the first place. The guy, Mr. Torin, was apparently the best. At the very least, this school had the lowest suicide rate in the country.

Torin was talking to a group of girls when Carswell walked in. His eyes were crinkled at the corners, but so was his mouth. He was a small Chinese man with glasses, but didn't seem to be too old. Just stressed. Friendly enough, but worried. The best people always had to struggle. Carswell immediately trusted him.

Torin shooed the two girls out of the office. They walked away smiling, obviously just having been there for a chat. "So," he said, pulling a peppermint candy from his desk. "Do you want one?"

Carswell nodded, putting the candy into his mouth. It helped to calm his stomach, possibly from the mint, but also maybe from the gesture itself.

"How've you been, Carswell? You visit the school any before coming? Meet anyone on the bus? How about classes, have you checked out any of those?"

Seemed like a lot of expectations for the first day of school.

Carswell shrugged, not sure whether or not to sit down. He opted instead to lean against the wall, which felt natural if awkward. "I'm good. We didn't visit or anything because we moved kinda suddenly, but I talked to some people on the bus. Winter and...Kai, I think it was." As if he could ever forget.

"Kai?" Torin seemed a little surprised, "Tall kid? Asian?"

"Yeah."

He nodded, pulling another mint from the drawer and popping it into his mouth without even seeming to think about it. "Good. My son is a nice kid; I'm glad you met him. There's a lot worse ways to be introduced to this school."

"I could imagine," Carswell muttered.

The bell rang and people started swarming through the halls in waves. First the younger kids, moving towards the back of the school, then the sophomores and juniors, whose classes seemed to be spread out everywhere. The seniors were near the very back, so Carswell had to push through to get there.

His first classes were English and science. Since it was the first day, the teachers were more focused on making sure that the students liked them than actually teaching anything. Which was fine since neither of them cared when Carswell took a nap or doodled on his notebooks.

Finally, after three hours of doing nothing, it was time for lunch. Kai was sitting right where he said he would be, surrounded by three or four others. A tan boy with his arm around a pretty redhead, Winter, and a girl with long caramel hair that swished around her waist.

He sat next to Kai, who introduced him to everyone. The boy was Ze'ev, the redhead was Scarlet, and, finally, there was Émilie. Carswell had never been very good with names, but they didn't seem like the type of people to be mad if he slipped up.

They asked him a few questions, basic things. His favorite food (buffalo wings), where he was from (across Rhode Island, not too far really), and if he had ever had a girlfriend (Carswell skidded around that one). Before he knew it, the lunch period was over and it was time to go to the library with Winter. The whole walk over, Carswell never stopped laughing.


	6. Chapter 6

That night, Carswell searched through the box labeled "ELECTRONICS", throwing cords and extra earbuds onto the ground around him until he found his computer, placed neatly at the bottom.

He retreated back to his room and threw open the lid, hurriedly typing out the URL address of the site. It took forever to load, further adding to his anxiety. The group chat starting at seven, and it was already six fifty-eight.

Carswell was never one to be late, but Kai had managed to convince him to stay for the first football game of the year. It turned out to be a whole celebration, complete with fireworks and a hotdog vendor, to celebrate both the start of school and the season.

"Hey, I should get going," he had said, around four, after checking his watch for what must've been the thousandth time that night.

"No, no, no!" Kai insisted, more likely than not at least a little buzzed. "Stay, stay. The game is not even over yet! The fun has just begun!"

And so stay he had. Part of him didn't regret it-bonding with Kai, having some fun, acting like a normal teenager for once. But another part of him felt stupid. Hanging out with a drunk friend at a football game, how stereotypical could a guy get?

Was Kai a friend? It felt natural to say, but after all they had only known each other for one day. Less. Still, Carswell felt comfortable around him. Like he could open up to him. The guy was good for a laugh, too, which was always nice. Did Kai feel the same?

God. This was why Carswell never left the house.

Either way, by the time the chat had loaded people had already started talking. Nothing more than a few hellos, but it was still far enough into the session that the _CarswellT_ _Is Now Online_ notification was still awkward.

It wasn't just a random hub, of course. Since they had moved, his parents couldn't find a therapist at a reasonable enough price. Being cheap, they turned to a fifteen dollar,online option instead: _TherapyChat_. A "Simple site that will help to brighten your day and clear those problems away!"

Yeah, right.

To be fair, Carswell would chose giving up thirty minutes of his life every week to do a stupid online chat over sitting on a chair for forty-five in silence any day. Any week. Any millennia. At least this way he might find someone who thinks it's as stupid as he did.

He heard someone walk into the room behind him and sighed. No better way to start your first "therapy" session than with your invisible friend.

"What's that?" Cinder asked, plopping down onto the floor next to him. "Some sort of dating site? Like E-Harmony but for depressed, insane teens?"

"Depressed and insane, huh?" Carswell shook his head, "Thought you were the only one who thought a little more highly of me."

"Nope," she said, popping the "p". "But, then again, if I really am an illusion-and, to be honest, I don't really _feel_ like I am one-I would be the one making you , I would be the one with the highest level of knowledge as to what amount of insane you are."

He rolled his eyes, not knowing how to respond to that. Instead, he looked at the text stream, where the professor was telling everyone to partner up and enter doubles chat mode. _This will be how you primarily go through your sessions_ , he wrote, _so I recommend you find someone likeable and stick with them. Try starting with your name, age, and ailment, alright? I'll be back in twenty to see how you're all doing._

Be back in...wait, this guy was leaving? Some therapist.

"Hey, look!" Cinder tapped the screen where it read "Messages". There was a little "2" next to the words, signifying that people had already sent him something. He opened the first.

 **RobertM**

 **Robert. You may call me Bob. I'm thirty-eight and I need more pictures of feet, if at all possible. I look forward to chatting.**

"What d'you think? Sound trustworthy?"

She looked down at her own feet, with their stubby nails and chipped polish. "I'd have to get a manicure first, really. No way am I letting pictures of these get leaked."

Carswell chuckled and clicked on the second message. It was from a girl named Cress A., age seventeen, same as him. "Definitely better," he said, more to himself than to Cinder.

 **CarswellT**

 **Hey. I'm, well, look up I guess. Same age as you. And...schizo?**

The reply was almost instantaneous.

 **CressD**

 **A questioning schizo. Sounds trustworthy enough. Well, hey there Carswell. I'm Cress (obviously) (already said that) and I'm dying.**

 **CarswellT**

 **Shit man, it's only our first date. Way to start with the heavy stuff. What of?**

 **CressD**

 **Oh, you know. The usual. Cancer.**

 **CarswellT**

 **Casually dying of cancer. Well, I'm sorry.**

 **CressD**

 **Why, did you make the disease?**

This was someone Carswell could learn to like, he could tell. Cynical, not to down in the dumps. Original name.

Of course, he had only known her for about five messages.

 **CarswellT**

 **I guess not.**

 **CressD**

 **Don't go getting hard to talk to with your closed sentences and shit. That's how things get awkward, you know. So, what's it like, being crazy?**

Next to Carswell, Cinder snorted.

 **CarswellT**

 **Same as being sane. I just see this girl sometimes, someone I used to know. It's awful, really. She's so ugly and annoying. Hate her.**

" _Hey!"_ She complained, punching him.

Carswell rubbed at the spot, smirking at her. " _You can't tell me it's not true when you can't so much as see yourself in a mirror."_

Cinder scowled.

 **CarswellT**

 **Okay, not really. She's my old girlfriend. We were in a car crash together and she ended up dying. I guess I never got over it.**

 **CressD**

 **For a crazy person, you seem very sure of yourself.**

 **CarswellT**

 ***tilts hat* well, thank you. It's a talent I worked hard to posses. Now, I'm curious. What's it like to die?**

 **CressD**

 **Getting personal now, aren't we?**

 **CarswellT**

 **I think it's only fair.**

 **CressD**

 **Well, it's fine. Throw up here and there, make a few hospital trips a month. I'm still in the process, dying, you know. So, in answer to your question, I'll tell you when I get there. I'll send you a hello from the other side, if you will.**

 **CarswellT**

 **I won't.**

 **CressD**

 **You will learn to love me.**

 **CarswellT**

 **Again, I won't.**

 **CressD**

 **Suuuure.**

 **CarswellT**

 **Hey, I think the so-called therapist guy is back. See you next week?**

 **CressD**

 **If I'm alive, yes. You shall see my messages.**

 **CarswellT**

 **Same thing. Bye.**

 **CressD  
I won't see ya.**

Not bothering to stay and listen to whatever crap the chat leader had to say, Carswell closed out of the program, just in time to meet the pizza guy at the front door.


End file.
